Big Salmon Lake hateraid

Watching him, Hydra sensed his anxiety was equal, perhaps greater, than her own. She shifted her weight and turned toward him again, uncertain and unsure again as he had not made to chase her—she lowered her head some, wondering if she had done something wrong. Hydra was terribly out of her element, and she wondered what Alya had done to not feel that way. Hydra was meant to be bold, brave. But in his company she felt... shy, and curious. Hydra could hardly look at him.

But when she did she noted the expression of suspicion, confusion. As he sniffed her prints and whined, Hydra's ears fell flat atop her head. Again, she averted her eyes. Sorry, she expressed, I... don't know what I'm doing, she admitted, averting her eyes. I've never met anyone outside of Moonspear before! It was exciting, but also nervewracking. 

And then she looked back to him. 

This, before her, was a boy. What if this was Cypress? Alya's Cypress? Hydra tried to remember what Alya had said he'd looked like... but she couldn't remember. She lifted her head back to its former station, one ear rotating to the left as a pile of snow fell from tree to earth with a quiet thud. The birdsong had resumed again, but the worlds quiet was a muffled one with the snows. Cypress had been dark, and this male before her was also dark... What color were his eyes? Contrasting with the hues upon his face were the most brilliant green Hydra had ever seen, and her tail waved. Uhm, I'm Hydra, she introduced at last.